


Alan in Wonderland

by MyVisionIsDying



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Asexual Character, Coming Out, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Trans Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 16:24:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7899724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyVisionIsDying/pseuds/MyVisionIsDying
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alan inhales deeply albeit very shakily. He turns his mirror so it’s facing the wall and he doesn’t have that stupid reminder of the things he’s stuck with, change is a good thing and he is starting with the mirror.</p><p>Alan Tracy is going to turn his Wonderland into reality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alan in Wonderland

He’s picked out the best clothes for a day like today, a day to lounge around the house and be lazy. Sure he’s wearing a pair of Gordon’s old board shorts that's several shades of blue in a cheesy ocean pattern and an old t-shirt of Virgil’s hangs loosely from his shoulders but for Alan, the baggier his clothes, the better.

Yet he can’t help but fiddle with the hem of his noticeably too big shirt, causing the fabric to brush against parts of his torso that make him shudder and cringe. And his shorts too, cease some way down his legs. Alan grimaces at the second thoughts about his appearance, toes curling around the soles of his beat up converse. Maybe he should stay in bed all day. He’s an expert of isolating himself, he’s sure no one will question it, right? His brothers won’t ask why their little “Allie” has been wrapped up in a blanket burrito all day. No. They’ll just pin it down to good old teenage angst and summer boredom.

Yeah, that sounds like a good plan.

So Alan backs away from his door to pace towards his bed, but he stops dead in the middle of the room. It’s just, he doesn’t mean to catch himself in the mirror but his reflection makes him scowl and his stomach lurch with a feeling that’s somewhere between disgust and guilt with maybe a huge feeling of extreme unhappiness as well. He tries not to stare but everything about him is off. Like a gallery painting that seems fine to the casual art appreciator but is obviously crooked to the ever observant critic. His face, his height, his hair, his voice. Every small detail about him does not sit right, as if something’s been out of place since the beginning- and it has, Alan knows with a strong gut feeling.

His clothes make a great job at deceiving but everyone knows what’s underneath so they make the assumption. And Alan awkwardly plays along with hidden frowns and tears stinging his eyes every time. They question it though, because Alan’s easy to read- he always has been- so he shifts the blame onto things like how he can’t decide what game to play after getting killed too many times in Grand Theft Auto or that he can’t really focus today.

(And it’s times like then where his ADD is a God send.)

(Although he needs to stop with that excuse because he’s been managing it better lately.)

(He needs to tell them the truth soon.)

Alan’s gaze falls to the floor momentarily until someone taps on his bedroom door but doesn’t enter. His heart’s pounding rapidly and violently within his chest because it could be any one of his brothers with a name or a variation ready to roll from the tips of their tongues, oblivious.

It’s John. When he eventually speaks from the other side, concern prominent in his tone of voice.

“Al? You alright in there?” he asks.

Alan’s beaming because he likes that nickname and he’s thanking whatever God is out there that it’s John who’s worrying about him today. Sadness still tugs at his strings because it’s _only John_ who uses that nickname. If the others used it too then Alan is certain that they’d catch on (Scott especially because the eldest sibling always knows everything).

“Y-yeah!” he squeaks before coughing to allow himself to sound a little lower, “I’m fine.”

John takes the bait and with a reply of “Ok then, see you later.” he pads off down the hall. Probably either into his bedroom or downstairs.

It’s some sort of high that Alan could probably ride on for the rest of the day. He could confidently thump heavily downstairs and casually stroll through the house to get outside, take up one of the loungers by the pool and just chill with his headphones on to blast loud music, of course. Maybe even read a comic or two. Theoretically, ignoring most of the world sounds great. Realistically, Alan will have to be forced to interact with people sooner or later. How unfortunate.

But then Scott has to interrupt the moment with _that_ name, harshly pulling Alan back down from the clouds to call him down for what is supposedly breakfast. Way to ruin it big brother.

That all too familiar feeling returns again. A constant squirm beneath his skin at the thoughts of having to live up to what his family see him as. Those hollow expectations that he can’t seem to grasp at no matter how hard he pretends. Disconnection, yes, that sounds about right the more he thinks about it. He’s disconnected with the things that are thrust upon him, and it isn’t what he is. He’s always felt different and the realisation ran him over like a bullet train many, many years ago. The upset with his appearance- despite Grandma saying he’s taking after his dad the older he gets (God bless genetics). The hatred for that name that… that his mother graced him with (and guilt likes to drown him because of that).

It’s a funny thing, Alan used to adore reading- and watching- Alice in Wonderland. He never really understood hidden and more adult things within (i.e. the caterpillar) but he definitely adored how surreal it got sometimes. Because Alice was in Wonderland, she didn’t have to think about the real world for a second. Maybe because she was too busy having a very merry unbirthday or maybe she was too caught up in the wrath of the Queen of Hearts.

But then the comparisons came rolling in. How he and the story’s protagonist were similar. Their heads always up in the clouds. Their blonde hair and blue eyes. Their _name_.

It made Alan feel sick. Because he couldn’t help but compare himself to his brothers. Why he wasn’t like them. Why they were somewhat viewed differently as opposed to him, and it wasn’t because he was the youngest. It was unfair. Unfair on an eight year old who wore oversized hand-me-downs from their brothers and felt comfortable- it felt right, who actively avoided their classmates because they didn’t fit in, who was on the verge of tears because they couldn’t get a short haircut so they could spike it like John because John’s hair is cool.

Eight year old Alan willingly parted with the book soon after ( _“But it’s your favourite?” “I don’t like it anymore.” “Alright, I’ll put it in the donation box.” “Thanks.” “No problem Al.”_ ) and Alan loved John a lot more after that. John continued using the nickname when he saw Alan smile a genuine smile for the first time in months.

Alan Tracy.

He loves how it rolls off his tongue. How natural it sounds to him. Although eleven year old Alan could argue otherwise, especially the first few months after picking the name (it stood out a lot to him, no reason behind it, it just sounded cool). He felt awkward referring himself as Alan to no one in particular, usually just a repetitive mantra of “I am Alan Tracy.” several times within the confines of his bedroom.

He needed to start off slow and slow he went. Planning a small morning routine of introducing himself in his mirror. Usually a chirpy “My name is Alan Tracy!” before he goes down for breakfast, but when he’s feeling like total crap it’s usually mumbled without looking his reflection dead in the eye because he couldn’t stomach the person staring back at him. But Alan’s persevered though, three years of greeting his mirror and learning to love his new name and he’s definitely been cheerier when doing so. Hell, he greets a random object in his room each day- because he tries to avoid his mirror- and heads out of his room with a spring in his step and a smile on his face before it’s all destroyed five minutes into breakfast.

Alan needs to tell them.

In fact he’s desperate to tell his brothers. But it’s the possibilities of their reactions that scare him. What are their views on these kind of things? Alan’s more than certain that John, best big brother John would be more than fine, he’s been out as asexual for just about a year so it makes Alan feel a little less nervous. Let’s not forget the fact that John actually stopped calling Alan _that_ name since the ‘Book Incident’.

It doesn’t stop Alan from worrying himself into an oblivion. It’s telling Scott that scares the shit out of him. Over protective, over confident big brother Scott who hoards a fuck ton of pride in his blood. Thinking about Scott’s reaction has Alan in the wake of a panic attack. Sure Scott was fine when John came out but he simply shrugged, told John it was alright and went back to whatever he was doing at the time. Alan knows his eldest brother, he froze in his place because of how uncharacteristic he had seemed. Scott Tracy is not and never will be a “Yeah. Ok. Whatever.” kind of guy, he’s always been vocal on things be it his opinion or showing off how proud he is of his four siblings for whatever they’ve done. Scott Tracy has never the quiet type. It’s Virgil who’s the most reserved out of the five siblings.

Alan’s frowning at his reflection. Losing an argument with himself about telling John, he doesn’t know how he’s losing but he is pretty sure that’s the lovechild of his cowardice and anxiety talking. It isn’t pretty. Because somehow his mind likes to convince him that nothing will ever go right ( _you’re still going to have it hard either way so why bother?_ ). However his side to the argument brings up some great points, for starters, he won’t have to continue with the act. That’s a big positive and it’s possibly enough to give Alan some courage because he’s squaring his shoulders.

Alan inhales deeply albeit very shakily. He turns his mirror so it’s facing the wall and he doesn’t have that stupid reminder of the things he’s stuck with, change is a good thing and he is starting with the mirror.

Alan Tracy is going to turn his Wonderland into reality.

* * *

As it turns out, John is in his bedroom, filing through heaps of star charts on his desk. He doesn’t hear Alan enter until the youngest Tracy happens to stutter over his words causing the older sibling to fly out of his chair with concern. He plants his hands on the smaller of the two’s shoulders to keep them grounded and focused.

And Alan tells John. Hands balled tightly into fists and his fingernails imprinting half moons into his palms that are clammy with sweat. Eyes screwed shut with tears gathering in the corners and heart thumping wildly as if it were going to burst out of his chest.

In a matter of seconds after confessing, John scoops Alan up into a bone crushing hug and spins him around the room. Stumbling over his words almost as bad as his little brother about how proud he is for telling him. And a promise to help Alan cut his hair in a few days is made as well.

Alan doesn’t release himself from the hug, at least not yet because he needs the hug. He buries his face in John’s shoulder and hopes his brother doesn’t notice the tears staining his shirt.

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this little one shot when the idea came to me one morning.
> 
> It can be interpreted for either the original series or Thunderbirds Are Go (although I'm still worried I wrote out of character, I haven't seen either series in ages so I sort of interpreted and did a slight character exploration with this scenario).  
> Also, I may or may not headcanon Alan with ADD.
> 
> I might write some more fanfic because I miss writing Thunderbirds fanfiction and I feel more confident in my writing now as opposed to three or four years ago.  
> Come talk to me over on Tumblr - myvisionisdying.


End file.
